


Stay the night, stay forever

by 700wordsAmonth



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Friends With Benefits, One Shot, Smut In The Beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/700wordsAmonth/pseuds/700wordsAmonth
Summary: Waverly and Nicole have an agreement: it's only sex. But Waverly knows Nicole wants more.





	Stay the night, stay forever

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am once again nananananaaa

Waverly Earp had only been in one relationship throughout her life, and that had been with Champ Hardy. They’d been High School sweethearts and she’d cared for him for a while, though she was aware that she had never loved him.

When she first found out he’d been cheating, she’d been upset, of course: she was 19 and had caught her boyfriend making out with another girl behind Shorty’s, the only family-friendly bar in town.

They hadn’t broken up. _It was only a kiss_, he’d said.

There were more girls after this first one, and there had been more than kisses, but nothing but her pride got hurt on those occasions, as Waverly’s heart had never been in it.

Champ had been the first person in Waverly’s life who _she _had left, in opposition to _being_ left, as happened with her mother, her father, her oldest sister and her uncle. Some of those not by their choice.

Still, they weren’t there anymore.

Her older, but not oldest, sister, Wynonna, had left her for a while too. She was back now. And that was good, great even. It was just that, considering Waverly’s history, she didn’t know how long that would last.

So, the arrangement Waverly finds herself in at the moment? So much better. So much safer. _And so, so much more enjoyable, _Waverly thinks as fingers part her lower lips and a clearly eager tongue licks her with heavy strokes. Her clit is soon trapped between pink lips, the suction exerted a little bit lighter than Waverly needs.

And then the intensity is _perfect _and she is _so close_ and, between her fingers, where previously she remembers there being blue sheets, there are red strands of hair, pulled with a vicious grip.

Groans reach her ears, from between her thighs, from her own slacked mouth, from the wood of the bed, accommodating the weight being moved on it. And then she is pulsing. Powerful, delicious throbs contract and relax her walls.

“Don’t stop,” Waverly says, her hand releasing the abused strands to cup the back of the woman’s head, bringing her closer still.

Softer licks bring her down to that small, welcoming bedroom.

“Come ‘ere,” Waverly asks, her hands still guiding the redhead where she wants her, and a last teasing bite marks her left thigh.

A kiss that smells and tastes like her is placed on Waverly’s lips and tongue, her hips immediately rising to seek friction again. She has that effect on her. _Nicole. _She has Waverly wanting her way too often, even when she’s just had her.

Trying to ignore how hungry her body still is for Nicole, Waverly pushes her away, just enough to break the kiss and allow her to turn on her side, her back to Nicole. If she stays any longer, she might fall asleep without meaning to. And that is not what this is.

“I should go,” Waverly says, her voice still honeyed with pleasure. She sits on the side of the bed, bringing the sheets up to cover her breasts. Her feet meet the cool wooden floor and the sudden chill gives her goosebumps.

“It’s late, you could stay over tonight.”

Waverly turns her torso and lowers herself to kiss Nicole a little dirty, with more tongue than she would usually use in a goodbye.

“You know I don’t want to blur the lines. And this is working, right?” Waverly asks, already standing up to throw her shirt on.

“Right.” 

Waverly doesn’t dare look back at her, but she can feel those sad eyes on her as she pulls her underwear up her legs and finds her jeans.

She is ready to leave in under two minutes.

“’Till next time,” Waverly says over her shoulder, trying to control her steps as her heart runs.

The low click of the door closing behind her is like a safety signal blinking in green. Waverly rests her weight against Nicole’s door and sighs, only then realizing her hands are shaking.

Leaving Nicole is never easy. Waverly knows Nicole wants more from her. It is clear in so many moments, in how she touches Waverly, how she looks at her, in how sometimes she asks Waverly to stay.

And Nicole is beautiful. She is beautiful and sweet and warm, and it's hard for Waverly to hurt someone like her, someone who so clearly would never hurt her on purpose. But Waverly doesn’t think she can stop having her, and she can’t offer anything more.

* * *

She spends the drive home lost in thought, which is why she's startled when she gets home.

“You were with someone, weren’t you, you horn dog?” Wynonna asks, delighted, as Waverly enters the homestead at nearly 2 in the morning.

“No,” she answers and moves to the stairs, not really feeling like talking.

“Yes, you were. Who are you dating?”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

“Well, you're clearly schtupping _someone_. I can spot bed hair from a mile.”

“That’s ridiculous, I always brush-”

“_Aha!_”

“Aha what?” Waverly asks, aware of her slip up. She wants to bolt up the rest of the stairs, but that might make her seem guiltier.

“Complete that sentence.”

“I was saying that that’s ridiculous because I wasn’t even having sex.”

“That’s _so not_ what you were going to say,” Wynonna sounds even a bit offended by her lame lie.

“Yes, it was,” Waverly counters, turning around from where she stopped to argue with her sister and finishes climbing the stairs.

“I don’t believe you,” Wynonna sings from the ground floor.

“I don’t care!” Waverly shouts back.

The loud impact of the door closing shakes the single photograph hanging by the staircase. It shows a man in the middle of two girls close in age. They seem almost teens. 

* * *

Waverly’s anxious to see Nicole.

Things felt a bit weirder than usual the night before. It’s nothing she can pinpoint, just an uneasy feeling in her stomach, and she believes that if she could just see Nicole on her seat, ordering her usual single beer after work, the feeling would go away.

Their rapport has always been easy in the bar, ever since the first time Nicole walked in, full of swagger and _such_ _a flirt_.

It had only been after two months of flirty interactions and of Nicole offering to drive her home that Waverly decided to take her up on it.

She knew Nicole was offering to actually drive her to the homestead, as the cruiser had heating and Waverly’s red jeep, unfortunately, had not.

It only took Waverly one shot of whiskey to correct Nicole’s assumption.

“Your home, not mine.”

To the growing uneasiness of Waverly’s stomach, though, Nicole doesn’t show up at Shorty’s that day, nor does she show up in the following four.

And that means that it’s been almost a week since Waverly and Nicole...

She doesn’t _need_ to have sex every week, it’s not that. But Nicole always makes her feel good for a couple of hours, and there is nothing wrong with wanting to feel good, especially with the added stress of feeling that something isn’t quite right.

Determined, Waverly takes out her phone from her back pocket and types a quick message.

_Can I come over?_

Shorty’s has already served its last drink for the night, all there is left to do is to shoo a couple of clients away, wash the glasses and clean the tables. The heavier lifting will be up to the poor soul who got the morning shift.

_Yes._

Waverly sighs in relief and finds new resolve to finish her shift.

_I’ll be there in 45._

Nicole opens the door looking so comfortable in an oversized wool sweater and yoga pants, it makes Waverly’s fingers contract with the pull to bring her closer, to hold her.

“Hey you,” Waverly says, her voice affected by the softness of the woman standing in front of her.

Their kiss is soft too, familiar.

Waverly starts moving towards the couch, guiding Nicole back without losing contact with her lips.

Their legs meet the couch, but Waverly doesn’t let them fall into it. Her thumbs find their way into Nicole’s pants’ waistline and start exposing a hipbone she’s particularly fond of.

“Hey,” Nicole interjects, her hands moving to cover Waverly’s as they try to undress her.

Waverly squeezes Nicole’s hands and moves back to her task, eager to have Nicole naked under her, but Nicole stops her again.

“Nicole!” She exclaims and chuckles, still trying to move closer to her.

“Waverly, stop.”

Nicole sighs and rests her forehead against Waverly’s, and that alone feels more- _More._ Waverly has no will to interpret it further than that.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Her voice comes out softer, reflecting the feeling still present in her chest from having Nicole clearly distraught and so close to her.

Nicole breathes as if she’s in pain, her eyes not meeting Waverly’s.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Waverly is suddenly breathing wrong, her voice has not enough air, producing only a weak _what?_

“This isn’t working. Not for me.”

Waverly knew that. She always knew that.

“But we have a good time, don’t we? Our _chemistry_-” Her argumentation is weak even to her, but the words tumble out of her mouth with no control.

“I know. But this is not what I want. I need more, Waverly.” There’s a regretful tone to her. Waverly feels it too.

_“Nicole,” _she sounds too needy to her own ears, pleading. “This is all this always was._”_

“Yea, but this _arrangement_ is painful for me, Waverly.” And now it’s Nicole who looks pleading, but she doesn’t seem to be pleading for Waverly to change her mind, only for her to understand. “I can’t anymore.”

Whatever words Waverly had wanted to say are forgotten. She’d seen the hurt on Nicole’s face whenever she turned down an invitation to stay over, or to eat something Nicole had cooked to wait for her. But it’s harder to ignore it now, with Nicole addressing it with no disguise, not looking away from her, at least for the moment.

“I can’t.” Nicole whispers again.

Waverly nods.

Fighting tears and fixing her shirt, she turns around and leaves.

* * *

Too shaken on her way home, Waverly didn’t consider that Wynonna would probably still be awake and still curious about her secret lover.

“Hey, didn’t expect you so soon. I thought you said you were gonna be late,” she says, her eyebrows moving exaggeratedly up and down to mark that she was being _suggestive_, as if Waverly needed the clarification.

She goes straight to the stairs again, not trusting herself to talk about this night without crying. Not yet.

“_Hey, _did something happen?” Wynonna asks, following her up.

“Nothing happened,” she forces between her lips.

“Baby girl, come on. Did this dude do something? I’ll kill him.”

“There’s no dude, Wynonna,” Waverly turns around, she’s furious and hurt and her eyes could never hide anything from her sister.

“There obviously is.”

“No, Wynonna, there isn’t.”

“_Aw_ come o-”

“There is no _dude_, Wynonna!” She almost screams, panting and standing in front of her bedroom door.

_“Oh.”_

That simple understanding, that simple truth out to the small world of the homestead loosens some of the strain she feels in her chest.

“Yea. _Oh._”

She turns around then and enters her room, closing the door to hide her hurt away.

But soon there are timid knocks, and Wynonna opens the door without invitation, resting against its frame.

“So, do I need to hurt this chick?”

“No,” Waverly says, struggling again, or still, to keep the tears at bay. “I already did that more than enough.”

_“Ah. _I see...”

Waverly’s tears start escaping her, each one with less struggle than the last.

Wynonna moves to sit beside her on the bed.

“What happened, kiddo?”

“She ended it.” Waverly doesn’t recall her voice sounding this small since she was 10 years old and scratched her right leg, from shin to knee, when falling off her bike.

“_She_ broke up with _you_? Who does she think she is?”

“No, I- …She said it wasn’t enough.”

“What isn’t?”

“Our arrangement.”

Wynonna makes an encouraging gesture with her head, with her eyes; her hands squeezing Waverly’s in support.

“It was just sex. She wanted more, I didn’t, so she broke it off.”

Wynonna hums and studies Waverly with knowing eyes.

“And you’re here crying, shaking like a leaf, because some girl you were sleeping with for…?” Her tone rises, prompting Waverly to complete her thought.

“Around four months.”

“_Four months? _Jesus, how blind can I- Not the point. So, you're upset because this girl you slept with for a while, and with who you want nothing more, said she doesn’t want to sleep with you anymore?”

Waverly shrugs and bites her lower lip, an attempt to get herself under control. “Yea.”

“Waves…” The affectionate tone brings a small bout of warmth to her chest again, prompting new tears. “Look, I’m not a specialist on feelings, obviously, but I do know a thing or two about relationships that are based on sex and sex alone: they don’t usually make you cry. If your feelings are getting hurt, you probably have more on the line than you thought you did.”

Waverly nods, still crying, and admits to her sister, and herself - “I’m scared, Wy.”

“Of what?”

“That she’ll leave like everyone does.”

She didn’t mean it as a dig to Wynonna, not right now, but her sister seems to take it like a punch, based on her recoil. She looks pained.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry I left.” This Wynonna, gentle like this and with wet eyelashes, was only hers. Only Waverly’s. Not even the oldest of them, Willa, had had access to this part of her, despite the both of them being thick as thieves over 15 years ago. Of that Waverly was sure.

Wynonna takes a breath and seems to shake herself from whatever thought was on her mind as she studied Waverly.

“It seems to me that she’s already leaving you, Waverly. The thing you’re scared of is already happening. So, maybe try it her way. If it comes to the worst, at least you'll have tried, and she'll have stayed around a little longer.”

“But at least now it’s on my terms, right?" She searches Wynonna's eyes, confident that Wynonna's _modus operandi _falls in this same line. "She’s leaving because _I_ didn’t want more.”

_“Oh,_ baby girl_,_ but does it hurt any less?”

_No._

No it doesn’t, and the tears might still take a few minutes to dry, but Waverly makes a decision, and it causes a new warmth that feels a lot like hope to bloom in her chest. It lets her sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Waverly gets up and gets ready, trying her best to not let her mind wander, lest it take away the bout of courage she managed to keep in her grasp since her talk with Wynonna.

She gets to the station early, but Nicole’s cruiser is already parked there, mining a little her determination as she gets closer to the conversation they need to have.

Waverly finds Nicole by her desk, still turning her equipment on.

“Nicole?”

“Gee!” Nicole nearly jumps, apparently not expecting anyone else so early in the day. “Waverly, I… Is there a problem?” She seems concerned for a moment.

“No, I’m not here to talk to a deputy, just… just you. Can we?” Waverly asks – and adds, despite the empty room, “in private? I don’t want anyone to interrupt us.”

“I… Yea, sure. Nedley is not coming in until 2 today, so I suppose we can use his office,” Nicole explains, guiding her into the room.

She closes the door and turns to Waverly, an apprehensive look on her face.

It eases Waverly’s anxiety a bit, finding herself in the role of dampening Nicole’s worry.

“I came here to- well, first to apologize," she says, still confident. "I’m sorry, Nicole. I’m sorry for all of it- I mean, not _all_ of it, but for doing this, us, my way, even though I knew it was hurting you.”

Nicole sighs and rests her weight against Nedley’s table.

“It’s… it’s okay, I wasn’t exactly an unwilling participant.” 

There’s a quiet moment and, even with all the unresolved tension between them, Waverly gravitates toward her.

“You terrify me”.

Nicole’s confusion is written in her expression, her eyes a little hurt.

“I scare you? _Why?_”

“Because- I never felt like this before.”

Nicole exhales, and Waverly’s name falls from her lips like a prayer.

“I like you _so much._ And you’re smart and good at your job and- and _beautiful_. Why would you ever settle down in Purgatory, with-? Why wouldn’t you leave? Because I want to travel, Nicole, I want to see the world, but this is my home, this is where I’ll be coming back to.”

“_Waverly,”_ and she sounds fond and pleading and desperate, “because Purgatory is my home too. And there’s only one girl who could make me leave it, but I’d be leaving to see the world _with her_.”

That little flower of hope blooms into a whole garden inside Waverly's chest. Her ribcage feels full and not big enough to hold that much _feeling_, so it all starts pouring out of her, some of it through her smile and laughter, most through her eyes.

“And then,” Nicole keeps talking, but now with Waverly in her arms and kissing her tears away. “And then,” she repeats, her lips now a bit shiny with salty water, “we’d come right back to, probably, a house in the same land of her family, because this girl is very close with her sister, and we gotta keep an eye on her.”

Waverly laughs, amused and happy, because _yes,_ that’s a life she’d want.

“You think we can get there despite this rocky beginning?”

With her thumbs tracing the curve of Waverly’s cheekbones, Nicole answers quietly, her light brown eyes reflecting the morning sun, “I think we’ll always get there, no matter what beginning we’re handed.” 

**Author's Note:**

> And then we finish with a shy love letter to Purgatory. Who knew that that's where we were heading to? Not me.


End file.
